


What Not to Expect (When You Are Not Expecting)

by polymona



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Impossible Angel-Demon Babies, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kid Fic, M/M, Parenthood, Post-Canon, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 13:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19395334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polymona/pseuds/polymona
Summary: Crowley awakens from an afternoon snooze shocked to find himself coiled around a small clutch of eggs that he was fairly certain were not there when he first dozed off the evening prior.Aziraphale is an understandably confused, yet proud parent.





	What Not to Expect (When You Are Not Expecting)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of trying to think up a remotely plausible way that wasn't too out-there weird for Aziraphale and Crowley to have biological children short of straight-up miracling them into existence. 
> 
> Life... finds a way.

It began with a baby shower.

A few short years had passed since the Apoca-wasn't. And many of the players were all gathered once again at the home of Anathema and Newton Pulsifer on a pleasant fall afternoon.

"Isn't it lovely?" Aziraphale said, clutching a carefully wrapped gift, beaming at all the love emanating from the room filled with humans flitting about and chatting happily over a very round Anathema.

"Hm, what?" Crowley replied, lounging further backwards into the sofa he shared with Aziraphale, so much so that he might as well be upside down.

"Oh, humans and their growing families," the angel smiled, "such wondrous miracles."

"Uh. Huh." Crowley absently replied as he watched Dog run off with some woman's unguarded cupcake, _again_.

"I know angels aren't supposed to _want_ for such things but-" Aziraphale scooted closer and took his partner's hand, "...do you ever wish it were possible we could add to ours?"

Crowley pondered on this question for a moment before offering a sincere, "We could get a hamster."

"Hey guys!" Mrs. Pulsifer called out, waddling over. "Glad you could make it."

"Oh, yes, right- Here!" Aziraphale hopped up, handing the gift to Anathema.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, tearing open the package to reveal an old, yet perfectly preserved, book. But, really, would you expect anything less?

"Grimms' Fairy Tales- second edition," Aziraphale added. "Thought it might be a good read for your child."

"Wait-" Crowley interrupted, "...isn't that the version with all the toes-cutting-off and such?"

"Oh. Right. Well," Aziraphale sputtered and then shrugged, "it's a classic."

~*~

Fall soon became winter, and it was one of the colder ones in recent memory.

Crowley took to his snake form to coil up in front of a comfy fireplace to warm his scales. Aziraphale had just bid the demon farewell for the evening, with a gentle pat and kiss on the head. While there had been much Talk of the two moving in together at a cozy cottage in the south, the angel and demon still kept much of their same routine, going back and forth between Crowley’s flat and the bookshop. After all, they had all of eternity now. They’d get around to it one of these days.

The light of the next day’s afternoon sun peeked through the window and glared into the serpent’s eyes, stirring him awake.

“Shit. I overslept,” Crowley hissed. He was supposed to have met the angel for lunch at the shop.

As the demon began to uncoil something felt _off_. There was a strange, lumpy weight against his scales. After parting his coils further he looked down to see that he was cradling a small clutch of three eggs. _Snake_ eggs.

Crowley’s brain ground to a halt as he stared. Those had definitely not been there when he went to sleep. But where had they- No. But- Wait. How did- That’s not- What?

“SHIT! Shitshitshit-”

~'*'~

Crowley sped across town in his Bentley. To be fair, he was driving a little slower than usual, balancing the eggs under his jacket with one hand and driving with the other, but still, he was going pretty fast.

“AZIRAPHALE!” Crowley yelled, bursting into the bookshop, looking out of breath and somewhat panicked.

“You alright, my dear?” the angel replied calmly, marking his spot in his book and setting down his tea.

“Sssorry, I’m late for lunch. I overslept, and there was- was- _stuff_.”

Aziraphale watched curiously as the demon tentatively set down the eggs onto the table.

There was a pause.

“You brought eggs for lunch?”

“I don’t think you want to eat these.”

As the angel looked closer he noticed that these eggs were rather larger than typical eggs for eating, and the shells weren’t hard like that of a bird’s but had an almost leathery quality more common to that of a- reptile. His eyes widened.

“W-where did you get these?” Airaphale asked hastily.

“I found them,” the demon replied plainly.

“Where?”

Crowley paused, meeting his angel’s eyes. “I was coiled around them when I woke up today. Weren’t there yesterday.”

Now it was Aziraphale’s turn for his brain to grind to a screeching halt.

The angel slowly reached over and touched one of the eggs gently. “D-do you typically lay eggs?”

“I’m not a chicken, Angel.”

Aziraphale paced about. “Did you perhaps miracle them in your sleep?”

“Don’t think so. Never miracled anything before that way.”

The angel held one of the eggs in his hands. “Did we- Are these- Did we make these somehow?” Aziraphale asked softly.

Sure, they had been Making an Effort to know each other in every sense of the word since the Nopocalypse- at Crowley’s Flat, in the back of the bookshop, around St. James Park, and once very discreetly under the table at the Ritz- but not _this_ kind of Effort. This sort of thing should be _all_ sorts of _impossible_.

Crowley threw his hands into the air and shrugged. “Dunno. I need some wine. Want some?”

While the demon dug around in the background for some wine glasses, the angel brought one of his brightest reading lamps over to the table. Aziraphale held his breath with a hope he didn’t even realize was there as he held up one of the eggs in front of the light.

Crowley startled when he suddenly heard the angel gasp loudly. “Angel, you alright?”

“My dear, you must see this,” a hushed voice replied.

Both looked on at the outline of figures inside the eggs illuminated by the lamp. They were not empty. Something was _alive_ in there.

“Oh my,” Crowley breathed, “this is unexpected.”

“Impossible even,” Aziraphale smiled, wrapping an arm around his partner. "A miracle."

“A physical manifestation of our love?" The demon suggested, pulling the angel in closer, capturing his lips.

~*~

How does one properly incubate impossible angel-demon babies? Well, while there was likely no existing volumes on the subject, that didn’t stop Aziraphale from looking-at least he had several volumes on serpent care which should suffice for now. In the meantime their clutch of eggs was nestled carefully in a safe, out of the way corner of the bookshop, wrapped in an oversized fluffy scarf some customer had forgotten on the coat rack years prior.

Aziraphale had already gone through several thick books on the nature of angels and demons, flawed as they were, after all, written by humans. They contained many imaginative stories of Nephilim, giants, and the sort-but he had certainly never met any. Just creative nonsense as far as he could tell.

"Angel, it's not like it's the sort of thing for heaven to broadcast, if it's ever happened before-ethereal beings producing offspring-seems like the sort of thing they'd sweep under the rug."

"Oh dear," Aziraphale said, snapping his book shut. "I do hope Gabriel never finds out about this."

"That would be bad, yes." Crowley gulped down more wine and turned another page in the _Your Pet Snake and You_ book in his lap. "Might give them a reason to bother us again after all this time."

The angel paused and strummed his fingers on the book. "Didn't it used to be typical for demons to tempt humans to various sexual encounters?"

"Yes, but I never met any supposed 'demon spawn'." Crowley made air quotes with his hands. "Just more stories by humans blaming their inconvenient pregnancies on a demon instead of say their neighbor or gardener or pool boy."

“What about Adam?”

“Well- Satan- bit different, that. I think.”

~'*'~

"Nice snake tat, man. Wicked," the pet shop owner commented, nodding approvingly at his customer who had just walked in.

"Thanksss," Crowley hissed.

"Can I help you find anything, gents?"

"Oh, yes," Aziraphale replied happily, "can you point us to the reptile heat lamps?"

Crowley paused in the isle to glance at a large python that appeared to be following his movements.

Aziraphale turned around, feeling a blip of love emanating from the snake's tank.

"Oh, I think she likes you," the angel smiled, tapping gently at the enclosure. The serpent booped her nose on the glass, trying to get a closer look at Crowley.

"Have to let her down easy then," the demon grinned at his angel. "I'm already taken."

~*~

Crowley watched as Aziraphale finished adjusting the newly acquired heating elements over their fluffy nest of eggs and double checking the temps to make sure they were getting adequate warmth.

“Sure we shouldn’t just take turns sitting on them like-like a-”

“Snake?” the angel offered.

“DUCKS!” Crowley exclaimed excitedly. “Right! Ducks-ducks sit on their babies, yes?”

Aziraphale smiled brightly, leading the demon over to sit down on the sofa instead. “That they do.”

~'*'~

Weeks passed and turned into months. Neither angel nor demon strayed far from the bookshop, making sure there was always at least one eye kept on the growing eggs. Each had started out able to fit easily into Aziraphale’s hands, and now they were all much bigger than his head.

The angel had taken to sitting and reading to them. After all, that’s what many humans did to their developing young, and it seemed like a good idea to him, sharing something of himself, that which he loves most-books. He carefully read aloud his favorite novels and other literature classics to the young growing minds.

In contrast, Crowley blasted Queen throughout the bookshop when it was his turn to watch their brood. That, and one time Aziraphale caught him on his mobile phone streaming episodes of the Golden Girls and explaining in excited detail what was happening on screen and which character was the best. The angel still didn’t quite understand his demon’s obsession with that television series. Aziraphale’s eyes tended to gloss over any time he rambled on about it.

There was no way to tell when the eggs would hatch, _if_ they would hatch, Crowley sometimes morbidly reminded Aziraphale, impossible things that they are. But so far all signs pointed to the assumption that they eventually _would_.

~*~

“Crowley! Crowley, my dear, do wake up!”

He grumbled and opened an eye. Aziraphale was shaking his shoulder forcefully. His mobile had fallen to the floor and was still playing the end credits of a Golden Girls episode. There was also a distinct cracking sound that was growing louder.

“Something’s happening!” Aziraphale exclaimed.

Crowley snapped awake when he spotted the distinct cracks running down each of the eggs.

“They’re hatching!” the angel cried.

Both huddled closer, waiting, watching, and holding their breaths.

The first was the left-most egg. A foot and then an arm punched through the shell. There was a struggle, then a few stray black downy feathers flew out, followed by the rest of the wings, forcing the egg in two, better revealing a look at its inhabitant.

Aziraphale quickly miracled a towel to clean up the baby and wipe away the goop from the egg. Blue eyes like his own stared back at him. The infant was surprisingly male, and not sexless like the default state of most angels or demons who had not yet chosen to Make an Effort. He had a messy head of red hair like Crowley and jet black wings with a few streaks and tips of white here and there.

Crowley was meanwhile in a puddle of his own emotions.

“And what’s your name?” the angel asked gently of their son, actually expecting an answer from the infant. To be fair, Aziraphale did pop into creation fully formed already knowing his name and purpose.

“Janthony.” Crowley blurted out after it became clear this one didn’t come with a name out-of-the-box.

“Janthony?” the angel repeated.

Crowley, held the child up in his arms. “I- just think he looks like a Janthony.”

Next was the right-most egg. Both arms appeared stuck, jutting out of the shell and flailing about, so Aziraphale took to carefully prying it open, while Crowley continued cradling Janthony. The angel gently picked up their second child, a boy like the first, but opposite in appearance in every other way. He had amber serpentine eyes like Crowley’s but a head of golden curls and brilliant white wings with a smattering of darker blotches.

Aziraphale gently rocked the boy and wiped at his face. “What should we name this one my dear?”

Crowley pretended to look deep in thought, not wanting to admit that he had whiled away many hours daydreaming about possible names for their offspring and compiling a thorough mental list.

“How about- Arthur?” the demon offered.

“Arthur. Arthur.” Aziraphale rolled the name around on his tongue. “That sounds like a lovely name.”

This was one case in which Crowley was glad that his angel tended to zone out when he tried to rave about the Golden Girls, since he wasn’t sure how he would take their son being named after the actress of his favorite character.

The last egg burst open almost like an explosion, sending bits of egg shell all over the bookshop that would have to be miracled away later.

“Oh my.” Aziraphale exclaimed.

The babe had a distinctive case of heterochromia, one piercing blue eye and one amber, the right wing solid black, the left all white. Her hair fell in large red curls, the same color as her brother, Janthony.

“Raphael.” Crowley breathed.

“Hm?” the angel asked, scooping up their daughter.

“She-she looks like a Raphael.”

“That’s a very angelic name, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

Aziraphale met Crowley in a loving embrace, looking down at the three squirming babies between them fluttering about with their impossibly fluffy wings.

“As of today, it looks like our side has several new members,” the angel said, smiling brightly.

~'*'~

Anathema wasn’t sure what to think when she got a call from Aziraphale out of the blue wanting to schedule a ‘human play date’. A play date with who?

Crowley showing up at her door pushing a pram just led to more questions. It was covered where she couldn’t quite see inside, and it was jostling around like the insides were actively trying to escape-not to mention the stray feathers going everywhere.

“Good morning!” Aziraphale chirped happily, appearing from behind Crowley.

Newton peeked over his wife's shoulder and pointed to the shaking pram. “Do I even want to know?” 

~*~

Inside, little Agnes was doing her best to balance one foot in front of the other when she was suddenly tackled by three winged giggling toddlers.

In the other room, the two couples sat across from each other sipping tea.

“W-what are they?” Newt asked slowly.

“They’re ours.” Crowley said matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t even know either of you were-” Anathema began slowly, looking over Aziraphale and then back at Crowley. “- _expecting_.”

“Me either!” the angel replied, taking another sip of tea.

In the background, Raphael looked on as Janthony and Arthur had managed to hoist Agnes up into the air, leaving her dangling by her feet.

“They seem to be enjoying themselves.” Crowley added, leaning over to catch a glimpse of the children playing.

"It seems like they're growing really fast for their age, what are you feeding them?" Newt asked.

"Crepes mostly." Aziraphale replied.

Anathema stared. "Of course," she responded slowly.

~'*'~

Of all the things Gabriel expected over the years regarding the activities of the rogue Aziraphale and demon Crowley, the very last on the list would have been a phone call detailing rumors of angel-demon half-breed abominations.

"Ha. Good one, Beelz. You almost had me."

It was so preposterous in fact, that it was ages before anyone bothered to finish filling out the paperwork for someone to actually go check.

By the time the agents of above and below did follow up on the family cottage nestled in the countryside, they were promptly sent packing by the so-called _abominations_. Raphael and her brothers made short work of the would-be assassins-being neither fully of heaven nor hell, the typical smiting tricks of the trade were completely useless. Their fathers didn't have to even lift a finger, sitting back and sipping wine with front row seats to Gabriel getting his ass handed to him.

It certainly sent a clear message that their side, humanity's side, wouldn't roll over so easily. Perhaps even, it was part of Her plan all along, for the members of Aziraphale and Crowley's own side to grow and flourish. After all, this wouldn't be the last time that the serpent would wake from a nap to find mysterious eggs that he could not easily explain.

**Author's Note:**

> 1.) The book mentions that angels are typically sexless unless Making an Effort.
> 
> 2.) There are some who believe that Anthony J Crowley stands for Anthony Janthony Crowley. I am one of those people.
> 
> 3.) At least one version of the book mentions that Crowley loves the Golden Girls. Arthur = Bea Arthur.
> 
> 4.) There is a fan theory going around that Crowley was once the angel Raphael, pre-Fall. There is a second one that both Crowley and Aziraphale were once Raphael, split in two.
> 
> 5.) I will love you forever if you do an art of Janthony, Arthur, and Raphael playing similarly to the NightLights from Httyd3.


End file.
